ward whom Maezli had promised to visit.
She had tried to persuade her grandmother to let her go with Maezli, in
which case her mother would not need to change her clothes, But the
latter would not even hear of it, remarking, "You can sit on the bench
under the pear tree with your knitting in the meantime, and you can sing
a song. We are sure to be back again in a little while."

Soon they started off, Apollonie firmly holding Maezli's hand. Mr. Trius
appeared at the door before they even had time to ring; it seemed as if
the man really had his eyes on everything. Throwing a furious glance at
Maezli, he opened the door before Apollonie had said a word. But he had
taken great care to leave a crack which would only allow a little person
like Maezli to slip through without sticking fast in the opening. Maezli
wriggled through and started to run away. The next moment the door was
closed again. "Do you think I intend to squeeze myself through, too? You
do not need to bolt it, Mr. Trius," Apollonie said, much offended. "It
is not necessary to cut off the child from me like that, so that I don't
even know where she is going. I am taking care of her, remember. Won't
you please let me in, for I want to watch her, that is all."

"Forbidden," said Mr. Trius.

"Why did you let the child in?"

"I was ordered to."

"What? You were ordered to? By the master?" cried out Apollonie. "Oh,
Mr. Trius, how could he let the child go in and walk about the garden
while his old servant is kept out? She ought to be in there looking after
things. I am sure you have never told him how I have come to you, come
again and again and have begged you to admit me. I want to put things
into their old order and you don't want me to. You don't even know,
apparently, which bed he has and if his pillows are properly covered.
You said so yourself. I am sure that the good old Baroness would have no
peace in her grave if she knew all this. And this is all your fault. I
can clearly see that. I can tell you one thing, though! If you refuse to
give my messages to the master as I have begged and begged you to so
often, I'll find another way. I'll write a letter."

"Won't help."

"What won't help? How can you know that? You won't know what's in the
letter. I suppose the Baron still reads his own letters," Apollonie
eagerly went on.

"He receives no letters from these parts."

This was a terrible blow for Apollonie, to whom this new thought had
given great co